


Rise like a phoenix

by Bexyrogers41



Series: Agent Rogers [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Believer, Eventual Romance, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, Survivor - Freeform, mulder has another partner
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-01-24 12:48:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21338497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexyrogers41/pseuds/Bexyrogers41
Summary: What if Fox Mulder had a partner before Dana Scully?. What if somebody else helped him discover the X-Files?. Cassandra Rogers was once a well respected agent until a kidnapping ordeal sent her running from the FBI and her partner, Fox Mulder. Returning six months later, she discovers that he has a new partner in the form of Dana Scully. Will she ever be able to escape the demons of her past ordeal?. Or will it drive her away from the FBI for good?.
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully, Fox Mulder/Original Female Character(s), John Byers/Original Female Character(s), Walter Skinner/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Agent Rogers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541680
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So I decided to do this story as I feel there aren't enough X-Files fanfics out there with original characters in them and there are practically zero involving Skinner. This story will begin in the episode Squeeze and will be primarily set in season one. I am planning on going onto further seasons later on so this will be a series.

FLASHBACK....

I let out a loud grunt, my chest hitting the hard, cold floor hard, knocking the wind out of me, the sound of the door getting slammed shut, the all too familiar jingle of the keys in the lock making me wince, my hand moving slowly to my stomach, hissing, pain quickly settling into what I know are my ribs, knowing they were still broken from the last time just a few hours ago. Or at least it feels like it, time seeming to move quicker in this place if that's at all possible. 

It feels like I've been trapped here for an eternity. I don't even know how long it's been; a week, maybe two, perhaps a lot longer then that. And I still have yet to see his face, it still kept hidden from me underneath that mask, that voice of his speaking very little to me apart from the occasional grunt and the one word, angel. I may still not know who he is or why he's chosen to take me as his prisoner, but I still remember exactly what had happened that day.

Hunter. That's what the newspapers and the news stories had coined him. He had been responsible for the disappearance of a dozen women, all dark-haired, of medium build and height, all in their early thirties. It had only been two weeks after the first woman's disappearance that her body had been found in a dumpster. She'd been strangled, her eyes missing, having been clearly cut out, them having been kept by the killer as some sort of sick memento. 

Eleven more women had followed, all with the same injuries, their eyes missing. There was also something else found on the bodies; wounds on their backs, cuts in the shape of what looked like wings. All the victims looked almost identical of the same height and build with long dark brown or black hair. 

Somehow, I'd known I could be his next target, me being of medium build and height and a brunette. And naturally, Mulder had been worried, wanting to keep me somewhere safe, not wanting to find my body thrown away like some discarded ragdoll. If only I'd listened.

I remember the feel of the hand going over my nose and mouth, the overpowering smell of chloroform hitting me like a hammer, everything going dark very fast, the sound of my name being shouted the last thing I remember. 

I'd tried everything I could to escape that first day only to end up failing everytime. Eventually, I'd just given up both mentally and physically, starting to accept my fate that I was gonna end like Sandy and all those other women he'd butchered. 

I slowly push myself up, crying out, nearly passing out from the pain moving so I'm in a sitting position then dragging myself backwards until I feel my back hit the wall, breathing heavily, my eyes closing. It had been a lot worse this time, the torture seeming to go on for twice as long as it usually does, him seeming even angrier then normal.

I can't stop my mind from drifting to the bureau, to the still small seeming office I share with my partner in the basement. I close my eyes tighter, smiling slightly picturing him in my mind, him sat at our desk, his feet up, eating those sunflower seeds of his, his I want to believe poster on the wall behind him.

Was him even still looking for me?. Or does he and the entire FBI believe me dead already?. Am I really gonna die here still so young, my whole life ahead of me before I'd even had the chance to fall in love, start a family, truly make my dead parents proud?.

I let out a sob, my hands moving over my eyes ignoring the pain in my face, starting to feel terrified for the first time since I've been trapped here. But I can't give up, that determination settling in fast making me drop my hands, sniffing. I wipe my eyes on the sleeves of my now dirty and tatty jacket, moving slowly into a kneeling position then getting up off the floor, crying out, my hands moving to my stomach, my eyes automatically looking around the room that's been my prison for god knows how long. 

Suddenly, I hear something making me freeze, backing up against the wall, shaking. A few minutes later, I hear gunshots followed by the loud, dull thud of something. The sounds of footsteps coming downstairs makes me automatically cry out, sinking to the floor, burying my head in my knees, my arms covering my head. 

The sound of another gunshot makes me cry out, the door getting swung open, slamming into the wall, footsteps coming into the room making me cower away, terrified he had finally come to finish me off.

"No...NO!."

"Cassie, it's okay, it's me. Mulder."

I slowly drop my arms looking up seeing the familiar face of my partner finding he's crouching in front of me, his gentle brown eyes making my fear vanish almost instantly. And I burst into tears, diving forward, wrapping my arms around him, feeling his own wrap around me, holding me close to him, letting me cry into his shoulder. 

"H...how long?," I mumble, pulling away from him, still trembling. 

"Eight days. We were shocked he'd still kept you alive this long. An ambulance is on its way. Let's get you out of this place," he said softly going to pick me up, stopping hearing me wince.

"It's....it's my ribs. I...I don't think you can carry me. Just...just help me walk."

He nods helping me up, wrapping an arm around me as gently as he can, leading me up the stairs and up onto the upper floor, seeing FBI all over the place. And my eyes automatically land on the body, his mask finally free from his face, seeing what he finally looks like, shrinking away, hissing from the pain, finding he just looks normal, the quite large scar across his right cheek being the only unusual thing about him.

"Hey, it's okay. He can't hurt you anymore," Mulder whispered in my ear, him helping me through the house then out of the front door, the ambulance outside. 

I get helped up onto a stretcher, the pain nearly making me collapse, lying down, it getting lifted up into the back of the ambulance, the doors getting closed. And I finally give in, my eyes closing, the last thing I remember before falling asleep being the smile on my face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I have decided to continue this story seeing as I've gotten quite a lot of good response. Cassandra will have a bit of a bond with another character, but nothing romantic or sexual.

THREE MONTHS LATER...

"Is it me...or is it getting crazier out there?." 

"How do you mean, Cassandra?."

I let out a heavy, shaky sigh, looking up at the blonde-haired woman who'd been forced to treat me psychologically for the past three months much to my protest. Why would seeing a damn shrink help the nightmares disappear, would put an end to my fears of opening my eyes expecting to find myself back in that prison not knowing how much time I had left in this world. 

"It's okay, just....take your time. You know how this works."

"I...I just feel like I'm trapped in a never-ending cycle of pain and torture. And....and seeing all the crap that's happening out there, knowing I should be there to stop it, I..."

"I know how hard this is, Cassie. But I promise you it will get better. It's just going to take t..."

"I'm sorry, I...can't do this anymore. None of this is helping. You never listen do you?. Not really. It's pointless. I'm never gonna stop...feeling like this. And no amount of drugs is gonna put a stop to the nightmares, gonna make it possibly to make it to the morning without waking up screaming."

"Cassandra, stop."

"NO!. I'M DONE, OKAY!," I shouted getting up, yanking my coat up off the chair, pulling it on fast then turning and walking out of the office fast. 

And my fast footsteps turn into a run, leaving the building fast, breathing heavily, ending up sat on the wall situated a few yards away from the set of concrete steps leading up into the psychiatric centre. 

I can't help but feel a little rush of guilt knowing I'd just shouted at someone who'd been trying their best to help me for the past few months. I move my hand into my coat pocket feeling the bottle I'd put in there pulling it out, staring at it, letting out an annoyed grunt. 

I was getting sick and tired of pills. Maybe it would be better if I just ended it all. It's not like anybody would actually miss me. If I ended it then I wouldn't need anymore stupid medications or pointless therapy sessions. 

"No....no, stop it," I muttered, shoving the bottle back in my pocket, my hands moving into my hair, gripping some of the locks in between my fingers, trying desperately to push these suicidal thoughts out of my head. 

Taking my life would only mean that bastard had won. And I can't really leave Mulder, one of the very few people who mean something to me. I have to get better if not for myself then for him. I refuse to let a damn ghost destroy what is left of me.

I get up slowly letting out a sniffle not even realising I'd been crying starting to walk down the street, keeping my head down, not wanting anybody to see my face and not because I'd been crying. 

I didn't want anybody to see my scarred skin and recoil in horror, something I know all too well from the moment I'd left the hospital three weeks after I'd been rescued. The rest of my scars I could cover up as they were from the neck down, but I couldn't hide the one on my left cheek. It had faded quite a bit in the last three months, but it was still there, not exactly something anybody could ignore. 

I never used to be vain, but I was always quite fond of my looks. I always thought I took after my father more then my mother, having inherited his bright green eyes and brown hair. My pale skin I'd gotten from my mom as well as my quite large lips and prominent nose.

Even though I was always thought of as a beauty, I had zero luck when it came to relationships. And my job in the FBI didn't exactly give me time to date. I wasn't a virgin, believe me, but I wasn't exactly a pro in the love department. 

After what had happened to me, I know there's even less chance of me ever finding more then a sexual thing. I doubt any man would come near me anymore let alone want me.

I just can't find it in myself to confide in Mulder about this, any of this especially my suicidal thoughts. I want to tell him so badly, but I just can't do it. He doesn't deserve this on top of everything he was still going through with the disappearance of Samantha, his sister.

I feel a tear run down my cheek moving to wipe it away with the back of my hand, letting out a sigh finding I've ended up outside the small restaurant I always used to visit with Mulder, staring through the large windows inside finding it's pretty quiet just a few tables taken up by customers.

I smile a little feeling and hearing my stomach grumbling feeling the craving for one of their omelettes making the decision to go inside, pushing the door open, catching the attention of the waitress behind the counter, getting a bright smile, her walking over to me.

"Hey, Cassie. Just you today?," she smiled, grabbing a menu, taking me over to a vacant table. 

"Y...yeah. I already know what I want, thanks. One of your omelettes with hash browns and a cappuccino, please," I smiled sitting down watching her write the order down on her pad.

"Coming right up. It's good to see you."

"Thanks, Emily."

I slip my coat off, draping it on the back of my chair, looking around the place. And I very quickly begin to feel uncomfortable finding everybody staring at me, the disgust evident in their eyes. 

I suddenly don't feel hungry anymore, getting up, yanking my coat back on, running out of the restaurant ignoring Emily's shouts. And I end slamming into a quite large body automatically struggling feeling my arms get grabbed, crying out, tears streaming down my face, a flashback rushing through my mind, finding myself on that table, that rusty knife digging into my naked flesh.

"Agent Rogers?. CASSANDRA!."

I automatically stop struggling hearing that voice looking up at the person it came from finding my superior looking down at me, concern evident in his brown eyes. 

"S...sir. I....," I stammered, feeling everything around me disappear just making out the feel of myself getting grabbed before blackness takes over.


End file.
